


Found Family (Protects One Another)

by C4t1l1n4



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25168141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C4t1l1n4/pseuds/C4t1l1n4
Summary: Jaskier finds himself attached to a griffin cub and has to protect her from people who think her dangerous.OrGeralt has to deal with his dumb boyfriend's antics and is there to help him when he gets hurt.Based off a cute piece of fanart I saw
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 240





	Found Family (Protects One Another)

**Author's Note:**

> I have never seen, played, or read the Witcher but I've been reading a shit ton of fanfiction.
> 
> Sorry if they're OOC

Geralt was fighting a griffin. 

Jaskier, of course, had tagged along, begging, whining, pleading about some great song he could turn this into if only given a chance to watch the fight up close. Geralt had - reluctantly - allowed him to come along. 

This was not the expected outcome. 

Heading back towards Roach - where Jaskier was supposed to stay - still jumpy as he came down from the potions, eyes melting into their normal golden color, he hears Jaskier cooing at something. Tense and on edge, his hand lingers near his sword as he rounds the bend, only to find the bard leaning against a tree, Griffin cub in his lab. He draws his sword immediately. 

“Oh, Geralt, done already? And to think-“ He cuts himself off, staring at the Witcher’s tense posture. “What are you doing?” 

Geralt takes a step forward, golden eyes lined with intent, and Jaskier recoils, clutching the cub to his chest protectively. That alone - Jaskier’s recoil in shock and horror - has Geralt freezing in place. 

“Don’t you dare, she’s just a baby,” Jaskier exclaims. 

“Babies grow up.” 

“I will take care of her by myself if I have to,” Jaskier snipes back, “But I’m not leaving her, especially since she has no mother now.” There’s stubbornness in the bard's words, and Geralt already knows he’s lost this battle. 

“Good luck getting her anywhere near civilization without her being killed.” Geralt remarks bitterly, but sheaths his sword regardless. 

“Oh, really?” Jaskier sounds surprised, like he’d expected Geralt to wrestle the cub from his hands and kill her anyway. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He jumps to his feet, the cub squeaking in protest at his sudden movement. “Sorry, darling.” Jaskier croons, scratching at the base of one of her wings gently. 

Geralt rolls his eyes. “You can keep her, but don’t expect me to help with anything.” 

This promise is broken but a few hours later when the Witcher offers Jaskier his cloak to help sneak the cub inside the inn. 

——  
It takes a few years, but eventually, people get used to the cub, aptly named Darling, and chalk it up as one of the many oddities of the Witcher bard duo. Jaskier even writes a song about that faithful evening and has many times defended his poor Darling against those who might question her safety. 

This is one of those nights. 

Jaskier, who is just trying to earn some coin before they leave the next morning, is interrupted by a slightly drunk man who slurs some harsh words about Darling, who lays at the bard’s feet. Jaskier keeps playing and makes it through the end of the song before the man says anything else. Jaskier powers through. Sure, it hurts that his sweet and lovely Darling, who has never made any attempt to harm anyone, is being spoken about so cruelly, but she’s grown quite a bit since he first found her and her size alone is usually enough to scare people away. 

However, halfway through the next song, the man says something once again, and Jaskier stops mid-verse, having had enough. 

“I’m trying to perform,” Jaskier says as politely as he can, “but it’s hard to focus when you are saying such mean things.” His smile is strained but he hopes the man gets the point and will shut up. “Now,” he turns back to address the crowd before he loses their attention. “Where were we?” 

“That thing is a monster.” The man says and Jaskier’s hand tightens around the neck of his lute, accidentally plucking one of the strings, a sour note floating into the open air. 

“It seems my company is no longer wanted,” Jaskier says, voice cold. “Have a good night everyone.” And a little quieter “Come along, Darling.” With that he scoops up the coin he’s earned and heads out of the inn. 

He walks a few buildings over to a place that’s a bit more secluded and stops, just standing there and taking deep breaths. Darling resettles by his feet, and he bends down to scratch behind her ears as he so desperately tries not to think how people refer to Geralt with the same terms, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Why are people so mean, Darling?” He asks, burying his face into thick chestnut fur. “Why are they so mean to the people I love?” Darling lifts her head, nudging her muzzle against the bard’s face which is now stained with tears. She licks at them, wiping them away and he manages a laugh. “You’re right, of course. People are just stupid, that’s all.” He wipes the tears from his face and presses a kiss to the top of her head before standing, only to be met with the sight of the man from the inn, and a few others, coming towards them. 

He knows his eyes are puffy and red from crying, but fixes them with his worst glare, crossing his arms. Knowing what they want he takes a step forward, placing himself between Darling and the men. She makes no effort to move from her spot but watches the men with rapt attention. Briefly, in the back of his mind, Jaskier wonders where Geralt is. 

“Step out of the way, bard.” One of the men snarls, holding a weapon in his hand. 

“Leave us alone.” Jaskier snarks back, and belated realizes he has no weapon. 

“You don’t have to get hurt.” The man warns once more, but Jaskier holds his ground. The man snorts in something that sounds like bitter pity. “The number of men that will die for a monster.” 

He rushes Jaskier and the bard is able to get in a few good punches but is ultimately knocked to the ground, head spinning, black dots wavering at the edge of his vision. This is when Darling decides she’s had enough. Her human has gotten hurt many times in the past couple of years, but this is the first time he has been hurt explicitly on her behalf, and she will not stand for it. She hears a faint, “Darling, go. Find Geralt,” and the rude man snarls something nasty about Witchers so she snarls back. To think that this man would not only hurt her human but insult her human’s Witcher, that is too much.

Standing over top of her human, straddling his head, Darling roars, flapping her wings and gnashing her teeth. _Get away from him,_ she thinks, but the man advances once more. She throws herself into the fight without a second thought, gets lost in her instincts, rips and tears, eyes wild. She only stops when there is no one else left, the remaining man running for his life, and she lets him go. 

She turns to focus on the problem at hand, nudging at Jaskier until he rolls over, staring at her with dim blue eyes, pupils blown wide and unfocused. She whines, licking at his face in concern. _Get up, human. Get up._ Jaskier reaches up and clumsily latches onto her fur, pawing at it lightly. “Geralt,” he says again. “Go.” Darling whines once more. She doesn’t want to leave her human, not like this. She nudges at him some more until she gets her point across and they compromise, leaving Jaskier leaning up against a wall as she hurries away from her human, following the scent of his Witcher. 

She ignores the people in the inn as she bounds up the stairs, pawing at the door to their room frantically. The Witcher answers and stares at her confused. “Darling?” She whimpers. Concern seeps into his voice, “Where’s Jaskier?” She gently grabs the end of his sleeve in her mouth and pulls. _Follow me, follow me!_ Her voice cries unheard. _My human is hurt, come help!_

Geralt gets the point and is hot on her heels as she bounds back down the stairs, not hesitating to fall into a full out run, knowing the Witcher can keep up. She comes skidding to a halt in front of the bard, who is in the same place she left him, and whimpers once more. Geralt is at his side immediately, cradling Jaskier’s face in his hands. “We need to get you to a healer.” The Witcher concludes and scoops Jaskier up into his hands. 

“Darling,” comes Jaskier’s muffled protest and she purrs to let him know she’s there. 

“She’s okay,” the Witcher reassures, starting to lead them towards the healer’s tent. “She’s right here with us.”

Geralt storms into the healer’s tent demanding help, Darling close behind. The loudness of his voice has Jaskier burying his face into the Witcher’s chest, and Geralt apologizes by pressing a gentle kiss into the bard’s tangled locks. Jaskier is laid out on a bed and Darling quickly makes her way to her human’s side, curling up next to him and resting her head on his chest. His fingers knot into her fur and she purrs once more, quiet and reassuring. The healer gives Jaskier something for the pain and something to ensure he sleeps but frowns as he informs them there’s not much he can do besides make sure the bard rests. 

It’s tense the next few days. Geralt had collected their stuff from the inn, as the healer had offered for them to stay with him, free of charge, and Darling has yet to leave her human’s side. Geralt comes and goes, he gets restless sometimes, but the longer Jaskier stays sleeping, the longer the Witcher stays. He’s a different kind of restless now, Darling can tell, there’s worry in his fidgeting, and she feels it too. It takes five days before the healer decides Jaskier is healed enough to be awake and moving around, Geralt and Darling are by his side when he does. He’s groggy, slow, but they help him sit up and lean back against some pillows, lights carefully dimmed, voices quiet. 

“Darling?” He asks voice dry, and shortly after, “Geralt?” 

“We’re here.” Geralt’s deep voice rumbles softly. “You took a nasty hit to the head.” He informs. “Take things slowly.”

Jaskier squints for a while and then blinks a few times before opening them all the way, cornflower blue surveying the room. His gaze lands on Darling first, who stares up at him excitedly, wings flapping. “You’re okay,” Jaskier says, drawing her into his arms, burying his face in soft fur. She remains calm and moves slowly, pulling back to gently lick at his face. “Yes, yes, I love you too.” Jaskier smiles. 

His attention is soon drawn to where the Witcher sits on the side of the bed, beckoning him closer and kissing him, long and hard. Geralt enthusiastically returns the favor but makes sure to remain cautious. “I was getting worried.” Geralt admits once they pull away, squeezing one of Jaskier’s hands between his own. 

Jaskier grins flirtily, “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” They kiss once more and Darling half-heartily whines from where she’s trapped between them. Jaskier leans back with laughter bubbling up in this throat. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not paying enough attention to you?”He starts petting her, running his hand through her chestnut fur. 

This is where he belongs.


End file.
